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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976804">A Snare in the Carpet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColeR/pseuds/ColeR'>ColeR</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Scooby Doo - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, F/M, M/M, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:49:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>185</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976804</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColeR/pseuds/ColeR</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Shaggy is frayed at the end of his rope, love pulls the rug out from under him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Snare in the Carpet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kieran/gifts">Kieran</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> <strong>Prologue</strong> </em>
</p><p>          <em>The blades of a ceiling fan stare down at a broken man, their slow cyclical movements seemingly mock something unspoken. Below, the man lies somewhere between conscious and catatonic, splayed out on a nest of sweat and grime. Crumbs cling to skin as grease mixes with grease. Around him, tissues and rappers adorn his matted comforter like flowers on a casket.</em></p><p>          It had been several months since shaggy had last felt the will to leave his bed. When he was younger everyone had always labeled him as “the stoner,” and in fairness, Shaggy had done little to dissuade this title. Back then lethargy was nothing more than a passing acquaintance. An easily rationalized side effect of, "<em>Like, gettin' high.</em>" Now, shellacked to his bedsheets by weeks of food and his own excretions, Shaggy had an intimate understanding of what true lethargy was. </p><p>          He didn’t blame Scooby for dying. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Shaggy did blame Scooby for dying, but with his best friend gone Shaggy’s anger had no one to fall on but himself. And fall it did.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong> <em>A Snare in the Carpet</em> </strong>
</p>
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